Dragon Knowledge
by Peonywinx
Summary: Otherwise known as 'The Dragonlord Dilemma'. In which the Round Table realises that Merlin is the last Dragonlord and there won't be any others. Ever. Given the resurgence of the dragon population, this poses a rather significant problem.


_**A/N: I got this idea from the flashback scene in** Grave Knowledge **where Merlin finds and hatches the two dragon eggs, and the scene between Merlin and Gwaine practically wrote itself. It stayed in my head until I came up with a plotline to work around that scene, and this is the result. Enjoy, and don't forget to review on your way out!**_

* * *

In retrospect, they should probably have realised it sooner — say, around the time Merlin, Gwaine, and Percival had brought back two baby dragons from the geyser caves in the north and Kilgharrah insisted that they stay in Camelot with Merlin because there were no other Dragonlords to care for them. Or perhaps when Gaius had to keep explaining to various curious knights, royals, and common folk exactly how Camelot's Court Sorcerer could be a Dragonlord when Uther had wiped them all out. Or any time since the truth had come out, really — because Merlin wasn't shy about announcing his status as 'the last of the Dragonlords' whenever he was challenged in this particular area.

As it was, however, the actual reality of the whole 'last Dragonlord' thing didn't hammer home until Merlin excitedly reported during a Round Table meeting that Aithusa had just laid an egg.

 _"What?!"_ Arthur gasped, completely gobsmacked. "An _egg_? A _dragon_ egg? A _dragon_ _egg_ from a _dragon_?"

"I believe that _is_ the law of nature, Princess," Gwaine pointed out. "Dragons lay dragon eggs."

Arthur didn't even bother reprimanding him, he was so shocked. "Do you have _any_ idea what this _means_?"

"That Aithusa's going to be a mother?" Gwen suggested, smiling benignly.

"It means," Gaius spoke up, "that the dragons are repopulating their species." He sounded quietly delighted, evidently recalling the time when dragons roamed free in numbers with fondness.

Arthur was less enthused. "I don't need more dragons flying around the city," he protested. "I thought we were done playing nursery to dragons when the last two left! But nooo — Merlin had to find _another_ dragon egg from God-knows-where and we've got baby dragon number three hanging around — and now you tell me we've got _more_ eggs to hatch?"

The small red dragon who had refused to let Merlin attend the meeting alone had been dozing quietly in one corner of the room, but upon hearing Arthur referring to her as 'baby dragon number three', she raised her head and growled pointedly.

"Now, see, you've annoyed Feidhelm," Merlin admonished Arthur. "You know how touchy she is about her name."

Feidhelm was, in fact, very proud of her name, and did not take particularly kindly to anyone referring to her by any other moniker. She was by far the feistiest of the three dragons Merlin had raised, her temperament almost on par with Kilgharrah's for prickliness. Caratacus and Nynniaw, the two young male dragons whose eggs had been retrieved from the northern caves, were much more level-headed. The pair had departed the citadel after spending their first three years under Merlin's care, and had since grown into well-adjusted young adults — and, given Aithusa's egg (which one of them must have sired), they had also apparently achieved sexual maturity.

"My apologies, Feidhelm," Arthur said graciously, before immediately turning around and glaring at his Court Sorcerer. "I was trying to make a point."

"It's just the _one_ egg," Merlin said.

"For now," said Leon. "That will bring the dragons' numbers up to six, and I've no doubt they'll keep reproducing."

"Yes," Lancelot agreed. He cocked his head questioningly. "What are you trying to say, Leon?"

"I'm saying that sooner or later we're going to have more dragons than we can keep up with. Are we sure Merlin can keep them all under control?"

"Don't worry, I'll manage," said Merlin. "Dragons don't exactly reproduce very often. They're very careful about offspring. And anyway, Aithusa doesn't want me hatching her egg just yet. She wants to wait until Feidhelm is out of Camelot. I think she disapproves of Feidhelm's attitude."

Feidhelm hissed from her corner.

"Don't get snippy with me, young one," Merlin retorted. "It's not _my_ fault Aithusa doesn't like you. Maybe if you would stop _snapping_ at her every time she visits…"

Arthur cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to dispel the bizarre turn the conversation had taken and steer the meeting back on track. "Leon's raised a good point, Merlin. You've done a good job managing the dragons we have so far, but what happens when their numbers grow? How in the world are you going to take care of ten or twenty dragons? Kilgharrah and Aithusa are mature enough to keep themselves out of the way, and Caratacus and Nynniaw are surprisingly good-natured, but I'm willing to bet the majority will be more like Feldheim."

"It'll be fine," Merlin said confidently. "I'm the only Dragonlord left. They _have_ to listen to me."

"I dunno, mate," said Gwaine. "One Dragonlord was fine when there were only two dragons, but now that we have five — and an egg — and we're facing a population resurgence, you might want to think about enlisting more."

"How do you suggest I do that? There _aren't_ any Dragonlords _left_ , Gwaine — I told you, I'm the last of my kind."

"Well, you can't always be running around after dragons," Elyan said reasonably.

"Hell, no!" Arthur concurred. "You're Court Sorcerer, not a dragon nurse."

"Gaius, what have you to say?" asked Gwen.

The old physician had a very peculiar expression on his face, like a cross between pleasant surprise and chagrined realisation. "Oh, dear," he said.

Arthur was instantly alarmed. "What? Gaius, what is it?"

"The dragons are repopulating," Gaius said slowly.

"They are," Lancelot concurred. "And?"

"And Merlin —" Gaius indicated his former ward with a bob of his chin. "— is the last Dragonlord."

"I thought we'd already established that?" Elyan said quizzically.

"Several times," Merlin muttered.

Gaius shook his head. "No, I don't think you understand. Merlin is the _last_ Dragonlord. The dragons are increasing their numbers, but there will never be any other Dragonlords."

There was a short pause as the Round Table absorbed the implications of that fact, and more than one person's eyes widened at the conclusion they arrived at.

"But wait…I thought dragon eggs can only hatch if a Dragonlord calls them forth?" said Leon.

"And since Merlin _is_ the last Dragonlord, only he could allow the dragons to repopulate," Gwen surmised. "The dragons could lay as many eggs as they would like, but none of them would hatch unless Merlin commanded them to."

"That is true," Gaius conceded, "but it would not surprise me if, eventually, the Old Religion compensates for the loss of Dragonlords by allowing dragons to hatch on their own."

"It can _do_ that?" Merlin exclaimed, stunned.

"I don't see why not. Magic is a force of nature — it is constantly flowing and changing. Dragons and Dragonlords have long been connected by deep soul magic, to the extent that they are kin, reliant on their bond for many things. If there is no one to bond with, it could be that the unused soul magic will alter the way in which dragons exist."

"They could become independent from Dragonlords," Lancelot realised.

"Theoretically, yes."

"Is that what's going to happen?" questioned Elyan.

Gaius shrugged. "It's impossible to say. That may well be the future of the dragon species, but an equally likely fate is that the eggs will simply remain dormant, and eventually become unviable once Merlin dies and there are no more Dragonlords to hatch them."

" _If_ I die," Merlin interjected. They still weren't certain whether or not he was actually as immortal as his druidic name suggested.

"That's not the issue here, Merlin," Arthur said dismissively. "Gaius, let me get this straight. Assuming that Merlin isn't going to live forever and the Dragonlord power dies with him — on one hand, the dragons might eventually die out because there isn't anyone to hatch the eggs…on the other hand, they could become completely independent and continue their species on their own. Is that right?"

"Indeed, Sire."

"So what you're telling me," Arthur said with a growing sense of consternation, "is that we could quite possibly end up with a full dragon population…and no Dragonlords to manage them."

"I'm afraid so, Sire."

The ensuing silence was weighted with a distinctly _uh-oh_ flavour.

"That," Percival said finally, "might be a problem."

* * *

Kilgharrah laughed when Merlin asked him about it. Merlin was not amused.

" _How_ can you find this funny?" he demanded. "This is the future of your kind we're talking about!"

"On the contrary, young warlock, I find it most amusing that you humans are devoting so much thought to the affairs of dragons." Tendrils of smoke rose from the dragon's nostrils as Kilgharrah snorted his mirth.

"Well, Arthur thinks that having a rampant dragon population might be a problem, and I'm inclined to agree with him," said Merlin. "I don't want your species to die out, but if I die there won't be anyone to take care of all he dragons I'm hatching."

"I believe I've told you before, Merlin, that you are immortal."

Merlin made a face. "Yeah…I'm not sold on that yet. And even if that is true, it doesn't mean that I can't be killed — or that I want to spend the next thousand years mediating between dragons and humans."

"Merlin, we dragons are fully capable of looking after ourselves," Kilgharrah pointed out. "We are creatures of the Old Religion, and I assure you, we know how to handle our own affairs."

"But —"

"Merlin," Kilgharrah said patiently, "this is not a matter for you to concern yourself with. What will be, will be. I had already come to terms with the extinction of my race before we found Aithusa. If it is still our destiny to become extinct one day, then so be it. If not, we will evolve with the Old Religion. Either way, I would advise you not to waste energy worrying about the future of dragonkind."

Merlin grumbled, but he knew better than to continue pushing for an answer. Kilgharrah had mellowed during Albion's time of peace, but he remained as infuriatingly, stubbornly cryptic as when he had first spoken to Merlin.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You may ask, but I do not guarantee an answer," Kilgharrah responded.

"Aithusa's egg…who's the father?" Merlin was genuinely curious. "Aithusa wouldn't tell me. Is it Caratacus or Nynniaw?"

Kilgharrah gazed at him with a steady, unblinking expression that Merlin usually interpreted as the dragon equivalent of a raised eyebrow. The sorcerer sighed; when dragons gave him that look, it usually meant that they considered his question beneath them. Merlin resigned himself to hearing something along the lines of, 'Whom a dragon chooses as its mate is not a Dragonlord's concern.'

Instead, Kilgharrah's response was the last thing he expected.

"Young warlock, what makes you think I want to know which male Aithusa procreated with?"

* * *

Merlin dutifully relayed Kilgharrah's words regarding the situation to the Round Table at the next meeting, but Arthur was, unsurprisingly, uncomforted. However, it was agreed that there was really nothing they could do about it except wait to see how events unfolded — and perhaps speak to Nynniaw about it the next time he flew by Camelot (the golden-green dragon had developed a rather surprising affinity for the inner workings of the Old Religion, and was nowhere near as confusing as Kilgharrah).

Of course, this decision did not stop various members of the Round Table from puzzling about the problem during their spare time. Gwen and Gaius accepted Kilgharrah's word for it and put it from their minds, but Arthur and his knights did not so easily drop an issue that had potentially dangerous consequences for the safety of the kingdom. Thus, as the one and only Dragonlord in existence and the focus of the current conundrum, poor Merlin found himself periodically ambushed in order to be subjected to their latest theories.

The first suggestion came, perhaps predictably, from Arthur.

"Merlin, is it possible for you to teach promising magic-users how to be Dragonlords?"

Merlin blinked, effectively distracted from the speech he was composing. "What?"

"I've been thinking," the King continued, "that if you could impart your Dragonlord knowledge to others, we could actually train suitable candidates to become Dragonlords. That would solve our problem."

Merlin rolled his eyes, thoroughly unimpressed. "Arthur, you can't _train_ Dragonlords," he said patiently, as if talking to a child. "It's something you have to be born with. You heard Gaius — dragons and Dragonlords are connected by deep soul magic. That's not a kinship you can forge through _teaching_. Honestly, Arthur."

Arthur glared at him. "Well, _Mer_ lin, I don't see _you_ coming up with any better ideas."

"I thought we agreed to let Destiny handle it?"

"That doesn't mean we completely stop looking for solutions!" Arthur exclaimed. "Merlin, this is the same 'Destiny' that decided my 'other side of the coin' would be the world's biggest idiot."

"Oh, that's nice," Merlin huffed. "Twenty-two years I've been serving you, protecting you, helping you become a great king, _saving your life multiple times_ — with a lot of hard, underappreciated work and countless sacrifices, mind you — not to mention my excellent work as Camelot's Court Sorcerer and all-powerful warlock — and what do I get in return? Insults."

"You give as good as you get, idiot."

"You're a prat."

"And _you_ are not addressing the Caerleon delegation tonight, Merlin," Arthur said, tapping the top of the parchment under Merlin's hand.

Merlin whipped his head down and groaned at the incorrect heading. He had mixed up his and Arthur's speeches for tonight's gathering, and would have to start all over on fresh parchment.

"Remind me why I'm _still_ writing your speeches for you?" he asked as he dipped his quill in the inkwell.

Arthur's expression became open and innocent. "Why, it's as you said, Merlin — you do _excellent_ work as my Court Sorcerer."

* * *

Leon was the second person to bring up his theory with the last Dragonlord. He tapped Merlin on the shoulder as they were filing out of a council meeting and asked, "Merlin, could I have a word with you?"

"Of course," Merlin agreed, moving down a quieter hallway for privacy. "What's this about?"

"Well, it's about the Dragonlord issue," Leon said, almost apologetically. "I trust you with my life, Merlin, but I saw the carnage from Kilgharrah's attack on Camelot firsthand, and I'd feel more comfortable if we were able to work out a solution we could implement to ensure that relations between us and the dragons remain cordial."

"I understand," said Merlin, and he did. "But there's really not a lot we can do."

"I know that," Leon conceded. "But I was wondering…are you absolutely certain that you're the last Dragonlord?"

Merlin was nonplussed. "I'm pretty sure I am."

"Ah, yes, Merlin, I'm not doubting you — but Balinor escaped King Uther's purge — maybe other Dragonlords did the same?"

"If there were any other Dragonlords left, they would have come out of hiding when dragons started flying freely around the kingdom again," Merlin pointed out.

Leon looked thoughtful. "Hm, I suppose they would have." His brow creased.

"I know what you're trying to get at, Leon, and I appreciate the thought you're putting into this," said Merlin, "but there's nothing you can think of that I haven't already. Trust me."

* * *

By the time Elyan suggested asking the druids to look into their texts to see if they could find anything useful about dragon mythology (or, as Gwaine termed it, dragonology), Merlin was starting to grow rather weary of the 'Dragonlord Dilemma' (again, Gwaine's words) that the Round Table simply would. Not. Shut up. About. It was also around this time that the knights stopped taking the matter seriously and started taking bets about how long it would take for Merlin to snap at their progressively outlandish theories.

"Five silver pieces says he loses it in a fortnight," said Percival.

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "Merlin's patient, but he's not that patient. I give it a week."

Elyan shook his head. "It all depends on Gwaine," he said. "Merlin will crack the minute Gwaine starts on him."

"You flatter me." Gwaine grinned.

"You're not allowed to approach Merlin about this until we've all had a chance," Leon said firmly.

"Hey, that's not fair!" exclaimed Gwiane. "I've got ten coins on Merlin throwing a tantrum before Wednesday!"

"Who's up next?" asked Lancelot, ignoring Gwaine with practised ease.

"I am," said Percival.

"What solution are you suggesting?" Leon inquired.

"Blood infusion." At the other knights' blank looks, Percival explained, "It's a new technique Gaius has been looking into. He's wondering if it would be possible to transfer blood from one person to another in the event that someone loses too much blood from a wound."

"How in the world would he ever do that?" Elyan asked, perplexed. "Getting blood _out_ of someone is easy enough, but putting it _in_ …"

Percival shrugged. "If anyone could find a way, Gaius can."

"How does this help the Dragonlord problem?" Lancelot wanted to know.

Percival grinned. "I'm going to suggest that perhaps we could _make_ new Dragonlords by infusing certain people with Merlin's blood."

Gwaine let loose a loud guffaw. "Merlin's going to be pissed," he chortled.

* * *

Gwaine was only half-right. Merlin wasn't angry — he was dumbfounded, then he was annoyed. _Severely_ annoyed.

"You want to take my blood and put it in people?" he said incredulously. "And you think this will _make_ Dragonlords?"

"I think it's a possible solution," Percival said reasonably. "After all, Dragonlord magic quite literally runs in your blood."

Merlin stared at him. "I don't know whether you all are insane or just plain stubborn," he growled finally. "Not only is that impossible, but I've told you all — _multiple times_ — that you can't make, train, _or_ find new Dragonlords. I am the _last_ of the Dragonlords. There's _no one else_ , and there will never _be_ anyone else. Do you understand that?"

With that, Merlin swept up his dark blue cloak and stomped away, while Percival wondered if a verbal lecture born of supreme irritation could be counted as the outburst he had put money on.

* * *

"Morning, Merlin!" Gwaine chirped brightly as he fell into step beside the warlock. Without pausing, he continued, "Listen, I've been thinking —"

" _No_ ," Merlin said at once. "Go away."

"You haven't even heard my idea," Gwaine objected.

"I don't need to." Merlin pointed a finger at him. "You, like Arthur, Leon, and Percival, are going to suggest another absurd and nonsensical method of doing something impossible — such as, _getting more Dragonlords_. Only _your_ idea is going to be even wilder and more ridiculous than theirs."

Gwaine feigned hurt. "You wound me, Merlin. It's not wild _or_ ridiculous — in fact, compared to all previous suggestions, it's positively tame."

"Ha!" Merlin snorted.

"It _is_ ," Gwaine insisted, beginning to grin. "And you can't tell me it won't work, either, because it's perfectly logical _and_ it's been proven that it works."

Merlin stared at him suspiciously; the knight looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"What I'm suggesting, Merlin," said Gwaine impishly, "is that you find a pretty girl and have a son with her."

Merlin choked. " _What_?!"

"You said yourself that the power of a Dragonlord is inherited, passed from father to son," Gwaine said, his tone one of maddening reasonableness. "And — as you yourself have also said _multiple times_ — you are the last Dragonlord. Obviously, if there's ever going to be another Dragonlord, it's going to be your son. So!" he finished cheerfully, "You should start looking for a suitable woman."

Merlin gaped at him, flushed and slack-jawed. "What the — you want me to… _me_! — and a _girl_!…you crazy — a _son_ …"

The warlock appeared to be at a complete loss of words, his incoherent babbling quickly disappearing into strangled noises — which was a triumph all of its own. Even Arthur couldn't get Merlin to shut up, and Gwaine congratulated himself for achieving the feat.

Merlin's mouth worked furiously, and when he finally found his voice again, it was to burst into the long-awaited meltdown.

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY _MAD_?" he bellowed. "DO YOU HAVE _ANY IDEA_ WHAT THE HELL YOU'RE SUGGESTING?"

"Of course I do, Merlin," Gwaine scoffed, unperturbed by the fact that he had just incurred the wrath of the world's most powerful sorcerer. "In fact," he added slyly, "I'm pretty sure I know more about this particular topic than you do."

Merlin blushed scarlet. " _GWAINE!_ "

"Come on, mate, it's the obvious solution. You don't have to marry the woman if you don't want to — this is for the good of the kingdom," Gwaine said sanctimoniously. "You wouldn't want the Dragonlord race to become _extinct_ , would you?"

Merlin exploded again. He raged at Gwaine for several minutes, telling him _exactly_ what he wanted (for Gwaine to take his Dragonlord Dilemma and shove it up his well-toned arse), conveying in no uncertain terms that he would never have a child with someone he didn't love and that the Lady of the Lake _wasn't_ going to be giving him children anytime soon (despite Gwaine's protests that if Merlin could manage it, any child from that particular union would be an invaluable asset, given the power of both its parents), and making it abundantly clear that he would tolerate no more 'suggestions' from anyone. His yelling attracted the attention of many people, including the other knights of the Round Table — but neither Merlin nor Gwaine cared, and their audience was wise enough to keep a safe distance from the vexed warlock.

"And did you ever think," Merlin hissed venomously as he concluded his rant, "that in order for my hypothetical son to _become_ a Dragonlord, _someone will have to kill me_?"

Gwaine had been waiting for Merlin to bring up the point he had deliberately not mentioned. "Well, you could have just _said_ that to start with," he said maddeningly. "Now that you've reminded me of that fact, of course my idea is completely useless. Sorry to bother you, Merlin."

With a wink and a smirk, Gwaine turned and ran for his life.

Once the Court Sorcerer had raced after the fleeing knight and was safely out of earshot, Elyan sighed knowingly from his position just behind the corner.

"I told you it would be Gwaine," he said to the other knights. There was no real exasperation in his voice, though; this meant he had won their betting pool.

Leon was shaking his head. "Why did we even bother?"

* * *

A few hours later, Arthur appeared in the common room where his Round Table knights (with the exception of Lancelot) were gathered, splitting the contents of the betting pool between Elyan and Gwaine.

"I hear you lot finally drove my Court Sorcerer mad." The King's tone was a cross between irritation and amusement.

"Not us, Sire," said Leon. "It was all Gwaine's doing."

"Now, now, give yourselves some credit. That wouldn't have gone half as well as it did if the rest of you hadn't already worn Merlin's patience thin," Gwaine said jovially. "Don't look at us like that, Princess — it started with you, you know."

Arthur's eyebrows rose disbelievingly. "And how exactly did _I_ start this suicidal mission of yours to irritate Merlin into a full-blown magical tantrum?"

"You were the one who wouldn't leave the Dragonlord Dilemma alone," Gwaine pointed out. "And the first to approach Merlin with a 'solution'."

Arthur was affronted. "I was genuinely trying to resolve the issue! It's not as if I blurted it out just for the sake of it. I actually put some thought into it."

"So did I," responded Gwaine. "And really, my idea was the only feasible one. There's no other way for there to be another Dragonlord unless Merlin has a son."

"Well, thanks to you, I think Merlin is forever soured on the idea of parenthood," Arthur retorted. "How are you still alive, by the way? The whole palace felt the blows Merlin was raining down on you."

Gwaine shrugged. "I've had plenty of experience running away from angry men."

"How many of those men were omnipotent sorcerers?" inquired Leon.

"Merlin's not omnipotent," Percival corrected. "He's damn near invincible, is all."

Elyan snorted. "That is definitely not 'all'."

Percival shrugged. "You know what I mean."

"In any case," Gwaine interjected, "I had excellent incentive to escape. This wager was really quite profitable." He shook the pouch containing his winnings, letting the coins jangle with a very satisfying sound.

Arthur groaned. "Far be it from me to deny my knights the entertainment of a good wager, but just…" He huffed. "For God's sake, the next time the five of you make a wager, make sure it doesn't involve Merlin. He is such a _girl_ when he's embarrassed — and you didn't just embarrass him, you annoyed the hell out of him. I'm going to be dealing with the backlash from this for weeks."

"Weeks?" Leon queried in slight puzzlement. "Why so long, Sire? Surely Merlin wil get over this in a few days?"

Arthur shook his head. "You didn't see him when he came to complain. It will be weeks."

With that, he took his leave, deliberately not confessing that a large part of _why_ it would take Merlin so long to forgive this was that the warlock, like Gwaine, also seemed to be under the ludicrous impression that this entire sequence of events was somehow indirectly Arthur's fault.

* * *

In the end, it was Merlin who had the last laugh. He marched into the room at the next meeting of the Round Table with great aplomb and slapped a roll of parchment on the table, along with a smooth black object with a familiar shape.

Arthur stared at it with wide eyes. "Merlin, don't tell me you found _another_ dragon egg." Where were all these eggs coming from? Dragons were supposed to have gone extinct decades ago!

Merlin rolled his eyes. "No, it's not a dragon egg."

"I agree it looks an awful lot like one, though," Lancelot conceded. He didn't appear to be the least bit surprised by Merlin's entrance.

Arthur glanced suspiciously from his sorcerer to his knight. "All right, what did you two do?"

"Nothing, Sire," Merlin said, too innocently. "The _two_ of us didn't do anything."

"However, the _four_ of us…" Lancelot began.

" _Four_?" Arthur quickly looked around the table and spotted the amused smiles on Gwen's and Gaius's faces. Frowning, he turned his gaze back to the black thing. "What _is_ this?"

"We've decided to call it the Dragonstone," said Gwen.

"Original," Elyan commented dryly. "What does it do?"

"It solves this so-called Dragonlord Dilemma without any stupidity," Merlin announced loftily.

"How?" Leon asked, eyeing the stone curiously.

"Crystals have long been used as instruments of magic," Gaius explained. "This particular stone came from the Crystal Cave, the birthplace of all magic."

"It's also been seared in dragon flame, so it holds dragon magic," Merlin added. "Then I imbued it with some of _my_ magic to create a bond similar to what connects dragons and Dragonlords."

"Merlin, are you saying that stone holds a dragon-Dragonlord bond?" Percival asked in amazement.

"No, not quite, but close enough." Merlin stroked the stone. "There will never be any other true Dragonlords, but with what we've done, someone with powerful enough magic can use the Dragonstone to wield some of a Dragonlord's power. They'll be able to hatch the eggs — and in certain cases, command dragons."

"Wait, so that thing can allow someone to hatch eggs, but not control the dragons?" Arthur sounded slightly alarmed.

"The dragons are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, Arthur," Gwen reminded him.

"But the whole reason for the Dragonlords was so they could mediate between dragons and humans," said Gwaine. "And train the hatchlings. If using the Dragonstone doesn't allow someone to do that, how does it solve the problem?"

"I didn't train Aithusa, and she turned out fine," Merlin pointed out. "The dragons will adjust."

"As much as it surprises me, Gwaine's point still stands," said Leon. "If, for whatever reason, a dragon attacks a human settlement, no one will be able to stop them even with the Dragonstone."

"What do you think I am, some sort of miracle-worker?" Merlin demanded. "I know what you're thinking, Leon — but Kilgharrah only attacked Camelot because he'd been kept prisoner for twenty years. As long as people aren't stupid enough to anger them, dragons have very little interest in what humans do."

"Which is why we wrote instructions," Gwen interjected, indicating the roll of parchment. "For how to use the Dragonstone and how to interact with dragons. Merlin and Gaius handled the magic bits; Lancelot and I thought of the practical applications and directions."

Arthur stared at them. "You four have been doing this in private the whole time?"

"Yes, Sire," Gaius affirmed.

"But…" Arthur turned to look at Lancelot. "I thought you were taking part in the bet?"

The other knights were also frowning at their comrade. Lancelot's eyes twinkled with uncharacteristic mischief.

"Oh, that? That was a diversion."

"A diversion?" Gwaine repeated in disbelief. "You were working for the other side!"

Lancelot shrugged, unrepentant. Arthur was unsatisfied.

" _Mer_ lin, if you were working on a solution all along, why didn't you say so?"

Merlin snorted. "Please. I knew what was going to happen after you came to me with the idea of _training_ new Dragonlords. If you didn't let it go, your knights probably wouldn't either. And the more ridiculous your ideas got, the more I decided not to tell you until I was done. Maybe this will teach you to leave magical matters alone when I tell you to."

The knights in question had the grace to look sheepish.

"Let me get this straight," Arthur said. "My Court Sorcerer, my wife, my physician, and supposedly my most noble knight let us run around with wild ideas, but were all the while conspiring behind our backs to pull one over us with a ready-made solution?"

"Yep," Merlin replied cheerfully. He smirked at Arthur's disgruntled expression. "You had it coming."

"And your little temper tantrum? Was that faked too?" Gwaine quizzed hopefully.

"Oh, no, that was real," Merlin assured him grimly. "I still haven't forgiven you, by the way."

"Ah…noted."

Arthur cautiously ran his fingers over the Dragonstone, feeling the raw power emanating from it. He still looked incredulous. "I still can't believe you came up with _this_ in a month."

Gwen's giggle tipped him off. Arthur snapped his head up to find Lancelot chuckling quietly, Gaius hiding a smile, and Merlin looking at him pityingly.

"What?" the King demanded.

"Arthur, I am going to say it one last time: I. Am. The. Last. Dragonlord." Merlin enunciated each word slowly and pointedly. "Did you _seriously_ think this issue never occurred to me before? I've been working on finding a solution for _years_."

And in retrospect, they should probably have realised _that_ sooner, too.


End file.
